Of Blackened Suns and Paper Flowers
by Virgins-and-Surgeons
Summary: She's been under his spell since day one. He's molded her into the perfect toy to cater to his whims, possessed her soul since they met as kids. Junko Iori is trapped in Ichimaru's web, and she really doesn't mind all that much. Not at all. Gin/OC
1. Childhood, Relinquished

It was in childhood that she met Gin Ichimaru, at an age where she would have done anything to keep a single friend, no matter what was asked. Especially if her only friend was a shinigami. Now wouldn't that be cool! Walk around with a shinigami friend, protecting you and doing fun stuff together. So even if it was things she'd never do, and really had no idea how to do. She'd do them exactly like he told her to. Because Gin said it was okay.

They first met on a dirty Rukongai street. A dangerous, dirty Rukongai street. Junko Iori was a young girl, an innocent kid that wasn't fit for Rukon and its cruel ways. But she could do things that most other children couldn't do; she could do them and do them without much care for exactly what she was doing. Her hair was blond, dirty from the mud and the life on the streets she was subjected to, but still a pretty blond. She liked to wash it in streams on the outskirts of Rukongai when she had the time and opportunity. Just to get some of the filth out of her locks, make her feel like a girl again. Not that she particularly obsessed over it, there were better things to be thinking of. Like how to get food. And she had clear blue eyes, a blue past the norm. They were so light in color that it was eerie. They held only innocence and the interest in survival.

To be correct, they first met next to a rotting dog. But before they arrived there, a puddle was involved. Junko was in the puddle, to be precise. Drinking from it, even though the water was a tie-dye of rainbows, the sign of obvious taint and unhealthiness. It held something akin to the sheen that oil had, though what was in this water was a mystery. Junko didn't care, she needed a drink and nobody would give her water. She couldn't steal any either; they were all watching her too close. The water burnt her tongue, which was really bad, most likely. But it quenched her thirst, even if there was an ominous chemical aftertaste to it. Sitting up from the puddle of probable disease, she walked around the back of a nearby building and followed a sickly sweet smell to a dead dog rotting in the intense heat of the sun. Lots of those squirmy white worms. Junko was too young and too well-versed in not having any inhibitions to care about what she was eating, and what she was eating had eaten.

It was at that point in time that he found her, crouched down next to the carcass and innocently shoving the white little worms in her mouth as if they were candy to her.

"Why're you eating maggots?" A young boy's voice queried from her side, and she turned around around, one white little worm wriggling between her fingers and her mouth open as she stared at him. He had odd silver hair, a color as odd as her own eyes. And she couldn't even see his eyes; they were nearly closed and she couldn't see a bit of what was behind them. But beyond all that, his most outstanding feature was that smile going from ear to ear, creepy and penetrating in it's nature. She cocked her head, looking at him curiously.

"'Cos I'm hungry. There's lots of 'em, too." She returned to her work, digging another hand into the corpse and moving around rotting organs to find more of her dinner. It was non-affective to her, how the skin slid as she moved it and how she was feeling the sensation of rot between her fingers. Slimy. Junko could feel that he was still there, staring at her. Turning back around with a fistful of those little worms, she held one handful of them out to him.

"You want some?" Junko offered, and he shook his head a bit.

"Nah, I just ate." He stated in an odd way, watching her shrug, shove the handful in her mouth and chew them like bubblegum as she returned to digging in the corpse, almost as if the thought of what she was doing didn't affect her in the slightest. Most children, a lot of older children wouldn't be able to bring themselves to do what the little girl was doing right then. Moving around to her left side, he crouched down and watched her. Junko turned an inquisitive eye to him, stopping in her digging to look curiously at his clothing.

"You're a shinigami." She noted, and he nodded. His shihakusho must have looked odd on such a small body, as would the Zanpakuto at his side. She herself was wearing a torn dull blue kimono, loose on her frame and ill-fitting. Her blond hair was straggly, dirty and oily while her hands had all sorts of rot under the nails. Scratches and bruises were here and there on her face and arms, and she had scrapes on her knees and elbows. A Rukongai rat, one who was well-adjusted to the lifestyle.

"What's your name?" He asked her, and she blinked before answering. "I'm Junko Iori. What's yours?" She asked back, wiping her hands off onto her dirty kimono, staining it with sickly-sweet smelling filth. Her fingers were sticky now. She'd need to wash them in that pretty rainbow puddle with the burny taste. The boy smiled a bit wider, watching her from behind heavily lidded eyes.

"I'm Gin. Gin Ichimaru." The boy answered, and watched her begin to dig out various parts of the dog and hide them away in a hole a few feet away from where they were. Both the eyes, the stomach and some meat off one of the hind legs. She hid them in a muddy hole, before burying them and putting a big oddly shaped rock over it.

"Just in case I come back here later, and I'm hungry. I can't save the wormies; they turn into flies and fly away, and I can't ever catch 'em." She spoke to anyone that cared to listen. Gin was listening. He watched the girl stand up, wiping more stuff onto her kimono and then walking past him to the rainbow-sheened puddle and sticking her hands in it, washing them until they were clean. They were probably not too clean after she wiped the excess water onto her filthy kimono, but she didn't seem to mind too much and merely stood up again, looking at Gin.

"Don't you have stuff to do? I thought all the shinigami were always busy 'n stuff." Junko queried, walking over to the area under the shade where Gin was standing and sitting down in the cool shade. The boy shrugged. "I got time."

Junko nodded to him a bit, beginning to wander off. Gin trailed her steps, and she didn't tell him to go away or seem to acknowledge him at all. She meandered to an open field, what was pretty much a big puddle in the middle. Walking up to the puddle, she got on her knees and started to poke at something floating. A dead man, bloated and purplish colored. Gin watched from a small distance as she pulled the dead man from the water, dragging him bit by bit up onto the riverbank and then proceeding to rifle through his pockets. Stuff that wasn't important or of worth to her was dropped to the ground where it rolled downhill back into the water, and the other things she wanted, Junko stuffed in her kimono in a small slit that Gin recognized as a hidden sort of pocket on the inside of the garment. She must have made it herself, to hide things from anyone that might try and steal them from her otherwise.

"This guy doesn't have good stuff." Junko commented aloud, giving up on anything good from the guy and sitting on his chest like a stool. She was supporting her head in her hands, her elbows sitting on her knees while her cheeks were pushed up humorously by her hands. All in all, it didn't fit with the fact that she was sitting on a bloated corpse while she acted as if nothing were wrong with it at all. A moment later, Gin sat next to her with his constant smile on.

"Hey Gin." Junko said his name casually, and the boy looked over at her. Junko looked curious, like she wanted to ask him a question.

"Yeah?" He answered, stretching a little bit. The corpse held both their light weights easily, considering they were both children. The blond girl thought a moment, before giving her question.

"What's it like bein' a shinigami? Do they have good food? Do you have a house?" She assaulted him with a barrage of questions, and he answered quickly and quietly.

"It's pretty fun; I do lots of hard work sometimes, but there's always a bunch of food. I live in the barracks though, which is kinda like a house." Gin answered her, and she smiled.

"I wish I could be a shinigami like you, Gin. It sounds like fun, and all I eat is those white wormies and the dead things nowadays. I get sick a lot from it, but what else I could do, I dunno. At least the dead things are sweet. Like candy." Junko spoke, now staring down at the dead man's purple face. She was a pretty girl, nice and innocent. Not really too innocent, but naive, really. Naive enough to be able to push what she was doing out of her mind, but not innocent enough to not be able to do it. Gin thought she was fun.

"Wanna play a game?" Gin asked her, and she looked over to him.

"Hm...yeah, that sounds like fun." Junko smiled to him, looking excited. Gin was always smiling, and she would just pretend that he looked happier too. The young shinigami stood up, walking away from the dead man and Junko followed him to a patch of flowers under the trees.

"Alright, we're playing house. I'm the husband and you're the wife." Gin announced, and Junko nodded silently. He continued giving instructions, since she obviously had no idea how to do it.

"Well, I'll come home and you'll say, 'Hello Gin. How was your day?'. I'll sit down and we'll go from there. Okay?" He asked her if she comprehended, and Junko nodded again. He turned, shunpoing off into the treeline as Junko sat down in the flowers, waiting for him. He walked out a moment later, sitting down opposite Junko while still smiling.

"Hello Gin, how was your day?" Junko asked him sweetly, smiling just as kindly. Gin continued on, ignoring how his knees were getting dirty in the grass and flowers.

"It was good. I killed some hollows and came back home." He responded, as Junko blinked. "What do we do now?" She asked him, and he smiled a bit wider. Leaning forward, he pressed his lips to hers and kissed her, and she froze. She had seen adults do this, but they weren't adults. They were kids. At least, she was. She attempted to pull away from him, break the kiss that was making her really uncomfortable but he followed her movement. She toppled backwards with his weight on top of her, and he finally broke the kiss to pull open her kimono and leave her chest bare. Junko yelped, attempting to pull it closed again.

"What are you doing, Gin?!" She yelped as he leaned down, kissing her neck.

"This is what husbands and wives do. Stay still." He told her, moving downwards to suck on one of her nipples. Junko whimpered, not liking how it was making her feel.

"I don't wanna do this anymore, Gin." She told him, with tears in her eyes. He waited a moment, before stopping to instead sit next to her and letting her pull her kimono back closed. She was sitting next to him still, and felt him pat her head slightly. A way for him to apologize in his own wordless manner, as she sniffled.

"I gotta go back to Seireitei. Stuff to do." He said simply, standing and neglecting to brush himself off. She watched him prepare to shunpo off, before turning around and speaking to her again.

"Bye Junko; I hope we can play again." Gin told her, before he was gone. Junko herself held her kimono closed even tighter, watching him go with something like relief and sadness. He stopped when she told him to, so she wasn't mad about it. She was actually pretty sad that he had to go back to Seireitei.

"Bye Gin."

* * *

It had been a week since Junko and Gin 'played' out by the dead man in the large pond/puddle. She had stayed around the area, instead of moving on to other places like she usually did. It was because she didn't want to disappear and Gin not know where to find her; he was the only thing she could consider her friend. And so she hung around that area, hoping to see him again. Junko was actually losing hope of it, and started to blame herself for stopping him. Maybe if she had let him go on and not have been such a baby, then he would've come back by now. Grown-ups did it, after all; what was the difference between her and Gin?

She was moping around the patch of flowers, laying down and fiddling with the flowers when something dropped in front of her face. A loaf of bread, and it wasn't stale. It was hot and warm. Junko seized it at once, before rolling on her back and seeing the smiling visage of Gin standing above her. The young girl smiled widely, so very happy to see him again.

"Gin, you came back!" She cheered, and watched him drop into the flowers beside her. He smiled at her as she broke the bread up into half, already gnawing on her half as if it were the last edible thing in the entire universe.

"Of course I came back. We're friends." Gin told her, taking his half of the bread and having much smaller bites than her giant ripping bites, practically inhaling the bread. "You were hungry."

She nodded, taking another big bite and swallowing it down. "Yeah, I'm real hungry a lot of the time. Stuff didn't die as much as it usually does." She told him, gnawing on her bread still. Gin smiled as she finished hers, before he handed her his half. It was barely nibbled on.

"I ate before I came." He told her, and she started to eat his half with no qualms. Gin watched her finish the bread and yawn widely, tired from actually having a full stomach. Junko turned and looked at Gin, smiling still. "Where've you been? I missed you." She told him, still glad that the closest thing to a friend she had had come back. Gin smiled, shrugging a bit.

"Had some shinigami duties to attend to. Nothin' special." He told her, before rolling onto his side and kissing her again. He felt her flinch, but stay still for him this time. He didn't go any further than that, rolling back to his spot in the flowers. She looked over at him, slightly confused.

"What was that for?" Junko asked him, and Gin looked at her with that same smile he always wore. "You're my wife, remember?" was all he told her, and she nodded a bit. The girl closed her eyes, but could feel him staring at her intently from behind his near-closed eyes. It was making her very uncomfortable, as if he could just stare into her soul by only looking at her.

"You wanna come play in Seireitei?" He asked her suddenly, and her eyes shot open. She jumped to her feet, giddy and nodding with gusto. "Yeah, that sounds like so much fun!" She cheered, and as Gin stood up she latched onto him in a great hug.

"You're awesome Gin!" Junko laughed, and Gin patted her blond head. "Yeah, I know. Now c'mon; I know somewhere we can play." He told her, before wrapping an arm around her waist and moving a bit. She blinked, about to ask him what he was doing before Gin shunpoed, and they jumped across the distance to land from one end of the large pond/puddle to the other. She 'eeped', hugging onto him for dear life as he shunpoed again, and in no time at all and a sequence of shunpoes, they arrived at the gate to Seireitei. The gatekeeper asked about the little girl with Gin, and the boy shingami merely replied with a name Junko hadn't heard before, someone who had said that it was alright.

They played in Seireitei, in Fifth Company's courtyard to be precise. Regular, silly child games like tag and other things like drawing in the dirt. And after a bit, Gin told Junko to close her eyes. She did, and he came back a bit later and told her to hold out her arms. She complied and he handed her something soft and furry, but matted in places.

"Okay, open 'yer eyes now." He told her, and Junko looked down to see a cat in her arms. It was bloodied, its hair was matted and Junko watched as she moved a bit and its head swayed at a grotesque angle, its neck obviously broken. The cat was missing a foot. Junko squealed in delight at having it, already leaning down and sinking her little teeth into the bloody side.

"No, Junko. Don't eat it, I'll get ya somethin' to eat later. Just pet it." Gin corrected, and Junko spat out some hair on her tongue and then began to pet the dead cat like Gin was showing her. After a few pets, the stomach gave way and intestines spilled into her hands and along the front of her kimono. She pouted.

"Gin, the cat broke!" Junko told him, and the grinning boy shrugged a bit. "Sorry, that's the way the kitty crumbles, I s'pose." This made Junko stop pouting and giggle, before she became engrossed in seeing the cat's spine peeking out and began to poke it.

"I wonder if there's any marrow left in the bones..."

Junko even got to meet a Lieutenant Captain, which she thought was so neat.

"Well, hello there." A kindly voice had rung out behind her and Gin as Junko cuddled her cat. The blond little girl had turned around, looking up at a brunette man that had an air about him that almost seemed fatherly. The man wore square-rimmed glasses, had dark chocolate eyes and Junko had seen the Lieutenant Captain's badge on his arm. She began waving to him, her hands covered in blood from the cat body.

"Hey, Mr. Lieutenant Captain shinigami. Wanna pet my cat? He's kinda broken though." She offered half of a cat to the man, and he blinked at the innocence in her manner as she did. Reaching down, he ran his hand across a relatively clean patch while tossing a glance to Gin. "That is a lovely pet, miss...Junko, wasn't it?" He queried, and she nodded while cuddling the mangy corpse.

"Junko Iori. Who're you?" She asked him curiously, looking up at him. The man was brushing his hand off on his shihakusho, smiling down on her again. "Sosuke Aizen. Very nice to meet you, miss Iori. How are you and Gin doing?" the Lieutenant Captain asked her gently, and Junko smiled, beaming up at him.

"Gin's a lot of fun, the most awesomest person ever! He's my husband!"

This made Gin smile a bit wider, as Aizen smiled as well. "That's good, I'm happy that Gin has a playmate his age-" He began, before a voice cut them off.

"Hey Sosuke, who's the kid?" A man with a familiar Captain's haori and long blond hair drawled, walking across the courtyard to look at the little stranger. He stared at the dead cat, as she cuddled it to her face while staring up at him. "You...know that cat's dead, right?" He asked her, a bit taken aback at seeing a young girl coddling a corpse with intestines in her lap. She nodded, hugging it tighter to her chest. "Doesn't make him any less fun than a normal cat. Sure, he's real quiet, and he don't move around much, but he's still fun!" She got a bit defensive at the end, and the Captain waved his hand a bit, apparently to dispell her protests.

"Fine, fine, he's a fun cat. Anyway, I gotta steal Sosuke from ya. Lessgo." He waved over at the brunette, who sighed a bit. "It was nice meeting you, miss Iori. I've got to catch up with Captain Hirako, if you'll excuse me..." Aizen slipped away, following after the blond Captain while Junko leaned on Gin, smiling.

"You're my best friend, Gin." She told him, and he patted her head like a dog. She didn't mind. Junko went on petting her half of a cat, leaning against the silver-haired shinigami and staring off at the sunset.

"Tha's good; I'd hope my wife liked me."

* * *

It had been a long, long time since that day playing in Fifth Company's courtyard. Years and years, actually, and Hirako had fallen to Aizen's scheming and along with the others, become a pariah. Aizen himself had taken his place, and with Gin as his Lieutenant Captain, had intensified the illusion of kindness and good-nature that pervaded the man. At the moment, Aizen and Gin were walking through the training grounds, watching for any recruits that Aizen would want within his division. Hinamori, Kira and Abarai were already decided upon, though it never hurt to look for more. None were really catching the shrewd Captain's eye, and he had decided that there most likely weren't any others he'd like to have.

A commotion off in the distance; apparently, there was some sort of fight between new shinigami. Aizen gave Gin the signal to go look at it, for posterity's sake, and the Lieutenant drifted off to watch. Looked like some men messed with the wrong woman, nothing of great interest. The shinigami cheering for one or the other saw Gin and backpedaled, letting the silver-haired man observe and take a bit of pleasure in seeing a blond woman beating down a larger male, and currently in the process of driving his Zanpakuto through his hands, pinning them to the ground. She leaned against the blade boredly, glancing over to the crowd.

"Aw, you done already? I'm barely even started!" She drawled, before her eerie blue eyes rolled over to Gin. The Lieutenant then saw a long scar traveling down her face, from above her left eye down in an angle to the right side of her jaw. It was darker than her normal skin, making it highly noticeable. She stared blankly at him a moment, before joy lit up her eyes and she lunged at Gin, throwing her arms around his neck and hugging him to her, to the dismay of the crowd.

"Gin!! I missed you so much! You always said you were too busy to visit. I kinda got lonely." She squealed, as Gin blinked at her pulling his taller frame down and pressing his face to her chest. Ds, at least. Gin, the master of guessing cup sizes. He pulled away from her, staring right at the woman curiously a moment before recognizing her. Add some years, some tits, a scar, and there was Junko Iori right in front of him. He smiled a bit wider than normal at her, patting her on the head like a dog.

"Good 'ta see ya, kid. Been a while, yeah?" He queried, as Junko nodded. When the man on the ground began swearing, Junko offhandedly kicked the Zanpakuto and heard him yelp in pain. "Yup, been...years and years, huh? You still a Lieutenant, like you told me last time you visited?" She queried, and he gave a nod. "Yup, still am. You still eat dead dogs?" He asked in return, and Junko shrugged a bit. "I moved on to...bigger game. People are better when ya kill 'em yourself; hunt is much more fun." She whispered the last part, unbothered by what she was telling him, and Gin smiled even wider at seeing her still a ruthless, innocent little thing. Junko'd be...useful.

He saw Aizen staring at him from across the courtyard, and returned to his normal, eerie smile. "Been nice seein' ya again, but I gotta be going. See you 'round Seireitei, Junko dear." He slipped out of her hands, and Junko stared after him as he walked back to Aizen's side, whispering something to the brunette man who waved to her with a kindly smile. Someone was coming at her now, yelling about attacking other students. Junko sighed, expecting this to happen.

As Gin and Aizen went on their way, the Captain glanced back to his Lieutenant.

"Will she be of any use?" He queried, and Gin gave a very slight nod.

"She looks same as she was back in the day, got the innocence of a child an' the instincts of a killer." Gin spoke, and Aizen's glasses caught the light as he passed it, hiding his eyes from view.

"That is a dangerous mixture. Could be very positive for our plans. I'll have her transfer to our division, along with the other three. Feel free to groom her how you wish, Gin. She's still obviously attached to you." Aizen spoke with finality in his voice, and Gin smiled wider.

"Aye, she's as attached as ever. I'll have some fun wi' her. She's my wife, after all."

* * *

Even longer, since those childhood days. Gin had ascended to Captaincy, and Aizen's plans were in full motion. All they had to do was wait. Most of the time, Gin couldn't stand waiting. Just hated lingering around, waiting for something to fall into place. Aizen's rules, Aizen's plan, though.

But there was something that could kill his boredom.

He waited in his office, waited for her to show up as she always did. She would, she couldn't keep herself away from him for too long. Kira was his Lieutenant, and he was a good one too. Did all the paperwork for Ichimaru, now a tall, lanky and oppressive man. Generally terrifying, and not even poor Izuru could escape his torments. Only four people could handle being around him more than a passing moment. One was the blond Lieutenant sitting in the room next to him, doing all the paperwork. One was a fun, busty alcoholic hanging out in Tenth with little Shiro-chan Captain. One was a kind-appearing, brunette Captain with big plans. And the last...

"Captain, I've got your paperwork." A feminine voice called from outside his door, accompanied by a series of knocks. Gin smiled wider, knowing who it was. He crossed the room quickly, in large steps, to open the door and stare at Junko Iori, Sixth seat of Fourth Company. Her unflinching attitude to blood and gore, and violence, had cemented the position for her when she proved capable of handling and controlling herself. Junko herself was a bit off, mainly because her ability to emotionally process things remained at the level of a child, due to Gin's meddling back in the young days. More or less, she remained intensely curious and completely innocent in the way of being affected by blood and gore, namely not affected at all. She could be working on a patient in the field, hollows screaming around her and men dying at her left and right, the person at her attentions torn to shreds, and she wouldn't even bat an eye. She scared the more feeble-willed in Fourth, mainly because she really didn't react at all most of the time. Wandered back with blood all over her, having seen people eaten alive right before her eyes, and Junko would just go take a bath and go to bed as if it were nothing at all.

This also had a negative.

Sometimes, Junko would get so engrossed in her work trying to save a life, that she forgot about anything else, like other patients with more dire wounds. Or she forgot that he was bleeding out right in her hands, and he died of blood loss. Once again, she wouldn't even think twice over it, shrugged her shoulders, took a shower, went to bed. And sometimes, when she came back from the field, she just had the most doll-like, glassy stare about her. And once, they had even found her eating hollow flesh. She told them that she was curious as to how they tasted, that was all. All in all, a woman that was more like a windup toy than a human being. And she was right under Gin Ichimaru's thumb, as he was the only one that she was really good friends with, and it was obvious that she was practically his slave. Always smiled a bit brighter when she spoke with him, laughed a bit louder when he was around. And frankly, it worried a lot of people how devoted she was.

"Good, good. Come on in, Iori, rest a bit. No, your Captain won't mind if I say I held you here." He told her, answering her question before it even left her lips. She walked in, and as soon as the door shut, she heard the lock click. Dropping the paperwork on his desk, Junko turned around to face him with an expression that no one other than Gin had ever and would ever see.

"So, Captain..." Junko began slowly, seeing him hover at the locked door while staring holes through her. She didn't even blink. "...You look well." She continued, seeing him chuckle a bit as he kept his eyes on her. "Yes, I've been feelin' pretty good. 'Bout you, Junko?" Gin queried, seeing her sit on the edge of his desk and smile at him, not the blank, naive, childish, or stupid smiles she usually gave him in public. No, this smile was one that showed a side of Junko Iori that only Gin Ichimaru would ever see of her. He crossed the room lazily, as she crossed her legs and leaned her chin on her fist, supporting it with her elbow on her knee.

"Oh, I'm well. Better now, though."

In a flash, he wasn't across the room anymore but right in front of her, gripping her wrists and pinning her down on his desk, knocking the papers and a few pens down as well. She laid flat on her back on his desk, seeing him lean over her and glance her over. A few new scars, probably from hollows or fights. Junko got in quite a few fights, because of Eleventh and all.

"Really?" Gin crooned, moving upwards to support himself by a knee on his desk, biting hard on her shoulder just where he knew would make her yelp. She didn't disappoint, and the Captain moved to lay his cheek on the mark he left. "Well, why is that, Junko dear?" He spoke in a husky whisper against her skin, already knowing the answer. The woman was under his thumb, a willing puppet to the man's every whim. Gin had trained her well from the day they met, a slow process that left her dependent on him for his affections. She wouldn't dare go against him, no matter what he asked of her. That was why she was so much fun to mess with. And when he just plain got bored, she was always there to toy around with. Junko Iori was his. His, and _no one_ else's. The woman's chest rose and fell quickly, as Gin trailed taunting ghost kisses up her neck, barely touching her just to make her go mad.

"I thought you'd know by now, considering how much you toy with me." Junko spoke roughly, looping her legs around his waist and pulling him tight against her. Gin chuckled at the impatient want of contact, grinding against her roughly and getting a groan in response. She craned her neck and inadvertently exposed it to him more fully, and felt him drag his teeth along her skin. Gin loved playing with his little freak bitch, one he'd crafted into a subservient masochist ready to play to his sadistic whims. She was so sexy covered in blood, he always thought, and it was even better when it was her own. Her being in Fourth meant that she could heal her own wounds too noticeable to be ignored, so Gin could just do almost anything he wanted. He liked to cut her up with Shinso sometimes, and she loved it when he did.

"You're being cruel again...Gin..." Junko sighed, digging her nails into his hands. It wasn't slow at all when he dragged out her obi, using it to tie her hands up tight. He pulled open her shirt, already nipping her scarred skin hard and using his now-free hands to rake along her sides, as she let out a long and ragged cry at his actions. "Nah, that ain't cruel at all. This's cruel." Ichimaru smirked, grinding harder and seeing blood under his nails. Eight bloody scratch marks adorned her sides, and she shivered under his fingertips. Not even five minutes and he'd bloodied her all over again. Maybe he should slow down a bit.

...Nah.

With this decision, Ichimaru ran his tongue up between her breasts, bearing teeth marks from where he'd bitten her hard enough to draw blood, hovering at her collarbone and adorning it with hot, open-mouth kisses. Junko was digging her nails into her own hands now, panting from his ministrations and waiting for what punishment he had planned next. A metallic noise, and white-hot pain carved through her leg as Gin sliced a line with his Shinso, and she finally cried out loudly, Gin noticing with appreciation that it was pain and pleasure in her voice.

"Ah, you like it when I do this, don't ya?" He asked her impishly, digging the blade in a bit deeper and twisting it. Ichimaru wasn't cutting too deep, just appreciating the feeling of her flesh being split under his Zanpakuto blade. Junko couldn't respond, only coughed out some sort of answer and nodded her head a bit, in too much pain to speak. Gin laughed a bit, scraping his teeth along her collarbone and watching her close her eyes to savor it. Oh, she was drooling from how good it felt. How cute.

"Ya sick bitch, liking when I cut you up. Twisted little fuck you are, ain't ya?" Gin taunted her, sliding the blade up and out, only to lay on her shoulder. She opened an eye to look on him, only to clench them shut again and let out slightly less than a scream when he dragged the blade down the length of her arm, along the back of it. Oh, Izuru would have questions about all the blood he couldn't get out of the desk, but then again, Izuru never asked them. Didn't dare.

"Y-yes..." Junko breathed, and seeing her bloody and shirtless on his desk was too much for Gin to handle anymore. He pulled down her hakama, admiring the fact that the material was wet with blood and somewhat difficult to remove. Shinso was used to slice off her underwear and then was laid on the desk beside her head, as he tentatively brushed his fingers along her warmth.

"Yep, 'yer soaked. Just like always, ya filthy masochistic whore." He went on dismissively, and Junko opened her eyes again just in time to feel him roughly shove himself completely within her, earning another pained yelp. She was trained enough to keep her arms above her head, though blood was beading in her palms and running down her hands. Ichimaru's pace was rough, didn't give her even a moment to recover before he dug his nails in her hips and buried his face in her blond hair, enjoying the smell of lilacs even as the scent of blood marred the sweetness, somewhat. He didn't mind, appreciated the heavy, hot smell. And she loved it too, Gin knew that. Her obi came loose and she immediately dug her nails in his back, making a ruckus in how much noise she was making, with all that shouting and screaming she was doing. Well, poor Kira would never get any peace like that, now would he?

"Shh, ya bein' too loud, Junko." He breathed against her cheek, and quickly tightened his hand around her throat, so much that she couldn't breathe at all. It left her quiet enough while Gin fucked her mercilessly, inflicting as much pain as he could, licking blood from her chest. Gin didn't count, but he knew she came more than once from all the times he bit and clawed her, to feel her gag and stiffen under him. Gin didn't even let her come back down, actually enjoyed that she would be so sensitive afterwards and didn't relent a bit. He felt her twitching under his grip and glanced up, to see her eyes rolling back in her head. She looked to be one with the dead, and he let his grip loosen enough for her to suck in a breath, right before he tightened his grip again to the point that she couldn't breathe.

"Oh, you love it, don't you? Ya just can't get enough, freak bitch." Gin breathed on her skin, letting go of her throat long enough to hear her cry out a loud 'Yes', before noticing that he'd been fucking her too hard, seeing as blood was coating them as he fucked her as hard as he could. Now, he was getting close to climax himself as the room started to spin, didn't even bother choking her out anymore and listened to her scream his name. Third Division was used to it by now, though they didn't know who the mystery woman their Captain was screwing so loud was. Poor Kira.

She screeched his name again, hitting orgasm again and digging in her nails so deep he'd bleed. A few thrusts later, and Gin slammed her down on the desk and closed his eyes further than normal, relishing the feeling of his own climax, and the blood slick under his fingers. Gently, Junko pulled his head down and kissed him, passionately. He bit her tongue, she didn't mind a bit.

"I've bled everywhere again." She breathed, and Gin shrugged as he pulled out and fixed his own hakama, noticing that she had indeed gotten blood all over everything. He shunpoed to the other side of the room, grabbing a black towel from the bathroom and tossing it at her. "I'm prepared." He sighed, attempting to fix his messy hair as she wiped herself off. Gin tossed a glance to her, once again seeing the tattoo of the large three on her lower back, a lovely little tramp stamp all for him. Couldn't say he didn't love to trace it now and then, be reminded of who she was devoted to. Shinso had cut up her clothes a bit, but she could make it back to Fourth with a little sneakiness.

"Can ya even walk?" He queried, and she pulled out one of her Fourth division energy pills. Popping it, she sucked in a breath and stood, fixing her top. "I'll be fine with the energy pill. I'm off tomorrow anyway, so I can lay around and convalesce." She muttered, checking the bandages wrapped around her cuts bleeding freely. Seeing that they were fine, she left the soiled towel on the floor, walking up to him and laying her head on his chest.

"You love me?" Gin asked lightly, and she sighed a bit. "You know I do." Junko muttered, and Gin looked down on her while looping arms around her waist loosely. Blood was in her hair, and she was going to have hellish bruises on her throat in the morning. It was at those times that Gin remembered how every single encounter could be their final embrace, how she was always a moment away from bleeding to death or suffocating. He couldn't say he loved her, didn't know exactly what love would be like. But Gin Ichimaru did know that he was attached to her, just like he was attached to his Rangiku. Rangiku was like a sister though, and Junko was...well, their game of house had gone on from decades ago to present day, because though they were never married, they were still playing 'wife' and 'husband'.

"Ya still my wife, righ'?" He asked her, and she nodded. "A'course. Always have been, from day one."

Gently, she pulled out of his grip and walked out the door, closing it behind her as Gin walked back and sat at his desk, knowing that soon enough, he would leave for Hueco Mundo with Aizen. It was a toss-up between leaving her or taking her. He might not know exactly what love felt like, but he needed her. It was a sort of attachment to the girl he'd had at his feet ever since she was a naive kid petting a dead cat with all knowledge that it was dead, but an insistence that it could still be fun. Maybe it was that Junko was one of his own spirit, a fellow denizen of the twisted shadows within their world, one of the eerie outsiders. Matsumoto was like a sister to Gin, and he adored her, but she was...she wasn't an outsider, not like he and Junko were. They didn't quite belong here or there, and Gin found comfort in knowing that Junko relied on him, would always, always be at his side.

Hell, maybe it was because Gin knew that after all of his warping, all the pressing and molding he'd done to her, that Junko would never be able to be with anyone else, never belong with anyone but him. She was his, and she would _**always**_ be his. Maybe that was what made him hesitate in the thought of abandoning her to Soul Society.

Closing his eyes a moment before standing and abandoning the paperwork for Izuru to do, Gin Ichimaru traced his way to his personal quarters in the Division, decided on heading to bed and stop thinking about it. At that same time, Junko went back to her own quarters with her paperwork delivered and laid down, exhausted. She wanted to stop thinking about that night's events, about anything at all. As they both laid down, Gin and Junko gave one last thought to one another, before going to sleep.


	2. Decisions, Decisions

Ichimaru continues deliberating with himself over whether to bring one Iori Junko or not. He wants to, yes, but he's not sure if he should. There's a good chance she'll just get killed there. _But_, a more sadistic part of his deliberation processes notes, _if she's just going to get killed over there, then she's just too weak to be useful. _He switches to another side, sitting at his desk and toying with the corner of a piece of paper as he does, and even his arguments supporting taking her are bleak and depressing. _She's just going to die anyway in the war,_ it says. _She's just a shinigami here, and one that slept with a soon-to-be-traitor. If she doesn't die by a hollow, then a shinigami'll stab her in the back. If she's in Hueco Mundo, she'll still have to fight, but you can watch her from there._

"This is all too complicated." He mutters to himself, allowing a small frown to cross his face before it is replaced by his trademark huge smile again. Best to keep up appearances. "I didn't have to worry about this with Rangiku. I know she'll be fine, at least." It's what he's telling himself, but the truth is a bit more complicated than that, of course. Matsumoto, he cares about her very greatly but she's not only his. She's got friends and things, she has a life. Junko is all his, and only his. Nobody else is ever allowed to have her because Junko is a toy that he's had from the first day he laid eyes on her. Centuries of training and obedience on her part, centuries of teaching on his. That's how he sees it, anyway; she doesn't even belong to herself because she lives for only him. And he knows that she would probably agree with him if she were here.

He glances out the window and knows that his time to choose is running thin. Aizen has already faked his death, and it's a mere two days from Rukia's execution. If he's ever going to do anything, he'd better do it quick.

* * *

Now, she's getting annoyed.

Junko Iori leans against the bar, drink in her hand, as she tries to ignore a very rambunctious shinigami now trying to get in her pants. He's getting her drink after drink, and she's starting to get bored with him buzzing around her to the ambiance of loud laughter and the occasional cheer from the other bar patrons. Sure, she may be a little ditzy and kind of stupid, but she's not so stupid that she can't see what he's attempting to do. She's not that drunk, either. She doesn't answer the millionth question about herself and out of the corner of her eye, spots him slip something into this new drink he's bought her. So he's done trying it the legal way, eh?

Without so much as a blink, she takes the drink and dumps it on him. A small piece of white paper comes out and she wipes the spill with it, before watching the little piece of paper turn blue. Fourth Company is marvelous for drug detection kits.

"Not an idiot. GHB?" Junko shows him the slip of blue-colored paper, and he knows he's lost now. He lunges to try and hit her or grab her or something like that; she's been expecting it for a minute now, and jerks her zanpakutou sheathe out as she turns to face him, and the way he howls and places his hands means she probably hit him in the eyes.

"Tired. I'm heading out." She says it to nobody in particular while paying her bill, before heading towards home. Something's wrong in these last few days, something other than the Ryoka or what happened with Captain Aizen. An ominous sort of feeling creeps over her as she heads to her small barrack room, quiet as to not wake anybody up, it being close to one in the morning now. As soon as she opens the door, she knows why. Her hand on the door instantly falls, and she notes that he's helping himself to her tea. The good, expensive tea.

"'Yer out a bit late, neh?"

Oh, he set out a glass for her too. How nice of him.

"Killing time."

She closes the door and offhandedly locks it behind her.

* * *

The sweat on her skin is cooling in the night air as he's getting dressed again. It's Fourth Company, he can't stay till morning. People would think. People would wonder. And if he so chooses to leave her here, then people thinking and wondering and accusing would be bad news indeed. He's pulling on his shihakusho and pondering about whether to take her or not, again, just like he has a million other times. Not that it's really all too catastrophic if he doesn't and she dies; he's just lost a very good toy, nothing incredibly important. And losing a good toy is something he really doesn't want to have happen, because it's _his_ and he doesn't want somebody else playing with it when he's gone. Not that he thinks she'd even let anybody else near her after him.

_For anything else, I'll sure miss the sex. _He's pulling on his Captain's coat as she sleeps and bleeds a little. She's going to be sore in the morning and she's going to tell him it's all his fault when they're in private, and he's going to laugh and shrug and say 'but you like it when I make you sore' or something cheeky like that, and she's going to huff and pretend to be mad when she walks away, and he's going to see her attempting to restrain a smile as she goes. It always happens the same.

Gin glances up at the moon as he leaves silently, and he wonders if Junko likes the night.


End file.
